


Contrapunto

by Antosha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Based on Intermezzo, Canon Het Relationship, F/M, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley's Wedding, Het, Implied Femslash, Luna Lovegood Being Luna Lovegood, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Minor Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Minor Luna Lovegood/Rolf Scamander, Nargles, POV Percy Weasley, Past Relationship(s), Percy Weasley-centric, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Post-War, Second Chances, Weddings, fic of a fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24562171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antosha/pseuds/Antosha
Summary: Be careful who you invite to your sister's wedding...
Relationships: Audrey Weasley/Percy Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not long after Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows came out, I had the good fortune to beta a wonderful, emotionally complex fic entitled [Intermezzo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10788615), by the wonderful irislock.
> 
> In it, she introduced a character by the name of Audrey Abbott—an American cousin of Hannah's. Now, I loved Audrey, and when [JKR's family tree of the Potter/Weasley clan](http://hp-lexicon.org/images/jkr/weasleyfamilytree-website.jpg) came out not long afterward, revealing that Percy's wife was, funny enough, named Audrey, I swore to irislock that I would write a Percy/Audrey Intermezzo-verse fic.
> 
> Well, a couple of years later... :-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Percy-ness. American OC. But not a member of [House Sparklypoo](http://web.archive.org/web/20030803120518/http://piratemonkeysinc.com/ms1.htm), I swear!

_24 October, 2003 - 6.03PM_

As his counterpart slowly put her notes in order and filed them in her voluminous bag, Percy scanned his agenda, trying desperately to find something that they hadn’t covered; alas, he could find nothing. Her clarity and his efficiency had allowed them to slice through the thorniest of the problems that they had faced—the renegotiation of the repayment schedule for the loans that the Americans had made to the British Ministry to aid in its rebuilding process. Between them, he and Ms. Abbott had found a way to allow the Americans to show their fractious constituents that the British were still grateful and were honoring their debt, while allowing the Kingsley Shackelbolt’s government to remain solvent. Both the American Secretary of Magic and the Minister would be pleased.

Unfortunately, that meant that there was no reason for them to continue to meet. As far as Percy knew, she would be taking an International Portkey back to America as soon as she left the Ministry building. And Percy found, much to his own shock, that he rather wanted their meetings to continue. Wanted that rather emphatically.

Partially, of course, it was that Miss Abbott was very attractive. Not in a typical way—not even in particularly British way, like her blonde, cream-complected cousin Hannah. Her hair was short and rather messy. She looked as if she spent a great deal of time out of doors; her skin was dark, tanned—at least compared to Hannah, or to Percy’s own family. And she was tall. Taller than any of the girls that he’d seen over the years. Nearly as tall as Percy himself. But she carried herself with a kind of graceful self-assuredness that made him begin to wonder...

What it would be like...

What it would be like... to dance with her...

Something bumped against his glasses.

She laughed, that rich, brassy laugh that made Percy’s soul scream for release from the bureaucratic straitjacket in which he’d imprisoned it. “Who the hell’s sending you memos at six o’clock on a Friday?”

Percy grabbed the paper aeroplane before it could slam into his nose. He immediately recognized the handwriting. “Ah. My mother.” He folded the parchment and put it into the pocket of his robes.

“Your mother works at the ministry?” When she smiled, the bridge of her nose wrinkled in a quite fascinating way. Her eyes closed to little, sea-green crescents...

“My father, actually.”Percy looked down. He could feel the familiar, familial warmth creeping up his neck. “ He’s a department head in Magical Law Enforcement, and so he is cleared to receive owls directly. I’m sure that my mother sent him the letter to forward to me.”

“Ah. I’d give you a hard time about getting owls from your mom, but honestly, I think it’s sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“Well, that your mom is fussing over you. Or, you know, whatever.”

He peered at her. She was still smiling, but with none of the evil glint that he was so used to seeing in his siblings’ eyes when they decided to play Take the Mickey Out of Percy. “Well,” he said, trying not to let bitterness or embarrassment show, “when one is grown, it can feel a bit constraining.”

“I bet.” Her smile did not fade, but rather deepened, as a note of sadness entered her expression.

“Perhaps it is different for a daughter.” Percy mentally set aside his own sister’s statements to the contrary.

“I... wouldn’t know. My mother died when I was at Salem.”

Percy felt as if a wall had fallen on top of him. “Oh. Audrey. I’m so sorry.”

She shrugged and then her smile brightened again. “That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. So aren’t you going to see what your mom’s _noodging_ you about?”

“Nudging?”

“ _Noodging_. Bugging. Riding. Bothering.”

“Oh.” His hand rose unconsciously to his pocket before he stopped it. “I know what she was... _noodging_ me about.” He stepped around the small table at which they’d been working for the previous week.

“Oh?” She stood her ground, which pleased him enormously.

He found himself speaking without considering what he was going to say.“Would you do me the honor tomorrow evening to accompany me as my guest to my sister’s wedding?”

That at least elicited a spark of surprise.

“That is,” Percy blurted, “if you don’t have any—”

“I’d be happy to,” said Audrey, peering at him.

“Oh. Good.” More than _good_ , Percy felt _fantastic_. His brothers would no doubt have described the feeling as _bloody marvelous_ or _wicked_ or something equally inane. Twin waves of relief and surprise washed through him.

“I was actually planning on staying here in England over the weekend.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose you had plans—”

“I was going to go hiking.”

“Oh.”

“In Wales, maybe, or the Lake District.” She smiled again.

“The Lake District?”

“I think I had a Lizzie-Bennet-goes-to-Pemberly image in my head.” The smile widened and twisted.

“Pem...?”

“Sorry. Once a Muggle Studies major, always a Muggle Studies major.”

_Muggle Studies. Penny._ “Ah! _Pride and Prejudice_ , yes. What was her name—Maudlin?”

“Austen.”

“Well,” Percy said, pleased to have the opportunity to take advantage of the time he’d spent reading Muggle novels for his first girlfriend’s sake, “my family are more from Thomas Hardy country.”

“You’re from the West?”

“Indeed. And if I promise you that you will find no lovelier spots for walking in all of Britain, perhaps I could spend the day showing some of them to you?”

Again, Percy found himself falling into twin sea-foam crescents. Audrey reached out, touching his shoulder. “I’d love that!”

"Wonderful," said Percy, warmth now spreading to his chest—and downward. Taking out his self-inking quill and the letter from his mother without opening it, he scrawled beneath where his mother had written his name, _will be attending with_ _Audrey Abbott of San Francisco, California._ Then he tapped the letter, murmuring, "Plivolatus," and watched with an enormous sense of pleasure—and relief—as the memo folded itself back into an aeroplane shape and flew out through the clerestory over the meeting room door and back up to his father. "There," he said, looking back at Audrey, who was smiling quizzically at him. He smiled back. _Merlin. Her teeth are so… white...._ There at least was one task nicely sorted.

: :

_25 October, 2003 - 9.11AM_

Early the next morning, Percy Apparated to the American mission house, not far from St. James Park. Though he had his dress robes shrunken in his pocket—carefully petrified to avoid creasing—he was dressed as he would have dressed were he helping his mother in the garden: loose trousers, a long-sleeved shirt, and a hat with a floppy brim, to keep the sun off of his ridiculously fair skin. At least he had managed to fight off the urge to put on gloves.

He was not, therefore, expecting Audrey to meet him at the mission’s entrance wearing shorts, a clinging, sleeveless t-shirt that appeared to bear the name of some Muggle university whose founding date seemed to be somewhat after Dumbledore’s time as a student at Hogwarts, and a pair of hiking boots that Percy could help but think of as pretty.

He stood with his hand on the door handle, knowing that his mouth was hanging open.

“Hi!” she laughed. “Should I have dressed warmer?”

“Hmm?” The tree at the center of the university’s seal drew Percy’s eye up... Her breasts. Her _breasts._ They were small and perfectly shaped, and there was _no brassiere...._

“Well, you're the local expert. Should I be dressed for cooler weather?”

“Sorry.” Percy blinked, looking belatedly up into Audrey’s eyes. “Oh. Yes. No. I’m just very sensitive to the sun, you see.”

“Sure. Yeah. I got my coloring from my mom’s side, so I guess I never have to think about that.” Her tongue danced over her lips. _Oh..._ “So, this okay?”

“Perfect,” croaked Percy, feeling sure he was making an absolute fool of himself. _Nothing new in that, at least._ “It’s been a lovely, warm Octopus, and the weather is sure to remain—”

“Octopus?”

Percy blinked. “I beg your—?”

“You said it’s been a lovely, warm Octopus.” 

“Of course not. I...”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Did I really?”

She nodded.

“Oh. I... I beg your pardon. I have no idea why I said that.”

“Well, that’s a relief. If you’d turned out to have a thing for eight-armed sea creatures, I’m not sure that we’d have had much to discuss.” She crossed her arms in front of the lovely, ice-cream-scoop-sized...

Percy closed his eyes. He was feeling quite fifteen years old. "No. No. I don't have any particular interest in cephalopods. Warm or otherwise." _Perhaps Luna Lovegood might...._

"Good." Her voice sounded as if she were grinning. And her hand touched his arm. "Why don't you take me where we're going. While we hike, you can tell what kinds of things you _do_ have a particular interest in."

: :

_25 October, 2003 - 10.28AM_

"Tintagel Castle."

"Wow. You mean, like King Arthur?"

Percy nodded. "Just like."

"Wow." She peered at the gorgeous gothic spires that seemed to have sprung up from the cliff. "I thought it was a ruin?"

"Ah, you must have seen Muggle photos. No, it's largely intact, but Muggle-proof." He pointed down the cliff, where a long path was carved into the rock. "I thought we might walk down to see Merlin's tomb."

Her dark eyebrows arched. "You sure know how to show a girl a good time."

"I do my best." He fought down the habitual stiffening.

"And I have no doubt you leave them smiling," she said, looking over her shoulder with a sly grin as she started down the path; Percy remained stock still. "So, you going to join me, or will you be showing me that good time by Firecall?"

Percy shook himself awake. "I was merely enjoying the view."

"Glad you like it." She let her hips sway more than was probably advisable on the narrow, cliff-side trail, and Percy's eyes locked where he had no doubt she'd meant them to: on her shapely, khaki-clad _glutei_ and those long, tan legs. _Merlin, those legs..._.

She was definitely flirting with him; even Percy could see that. What he wasn't sure of was whether he should make anything of it or not. Audrey didn't seem like an indiscriminate tease. Was she actually attracted to him? Was she merely winding him up? Or was this merely how people from San Francisco, California said hello?

"So tell me about this wedding," she said, after Percy had followed her—followed her posterior—down the trail for a minute or more. "Shouldn't you be there early? Aren’t you in the wedding party?"

"Ah, no," Percy said, snapped once more out of a trance induced by her long, swinging limbs. "It's a private affair, quite small. Just the maid of honor and my youngest brother as the best man. Mind, there are sure to be some gate-crashers.”

“You sister marrying a movie star or something?”

“Movie…?”

“Muggle moving pictures.”

“Really?” Percy had a vague memory of his father babbling on about such things, but he certainly wasn’t listening closely. That was before Penny… “Um, no. And besides which, Ginny is well known in her own right. She played for the British World Cup side this year.”

“Oh, Quidditch.” Audrey managed to make the game sound positively quaint.

This suited Percy perfectly; aside from cheering on his brothers and his sister and a few bets that he’d made with Penny and Luna, both of whom were Quidditch-obsessed, he’d never found anything particular in the game to hold his interest. “Yes. Quidditch.”

“Scott Morgan was on that team, right?”

“Yes.” And was—so certain people had made sure that Percy knew—very close to Ginny for some time while she and Harry were _on hiatus_. “I believe that he’s actually an American citizen, though his mother is British.”

Audrey shrugged. “My little sister’s a huge fan of his. Thinks he’s _the bomb_. I have to say, though, athletes don’t do a thing for me.”

“No?”

“And certainly not American athletes.” She stopped for a moment and gave Percy a smile that was both openly flirtatious and yet somehow a little sad. “I like British men.”

Percy felt his diaphragm flutter. “Oh?”

“Yup.” She looked him directly in the eye. “Skinny Brits who wear glasses.”

He couldn’t answer that at all.

After a moment, she smiled again, and set off down the trail. “So,” she said after a moment, without looking back, “what kind of witch do you like?”

“Witch?”

“Or is it wizards you’re into?” She threw him a wicked grew that told him she had a very good idea that that wasn’t the case.

“N-no,” he spluttered, stumbling on a loose rock.

What sort of witch did he usually fancy? All shapes. All colors. They’d all been bright, of course. But really, there wasn’t any other point of commonality. Penny was tall and solidly built, with curly, dark hair. Luna, of course, had had curly hair as well, though it had been blonde, and she was about as far from solidly built as it was possible to be.

_Asteria_ …

He shuddered.

He’d managed to go two whole days without thinking about _her…._

Because he’d been with Audrey.

“You,” he said, far more calmly and directly than he thought he had any business doing. “You are very much the sort of witch that I am, as you say, _into_.”

She stopped again and turned toward him, clearly surprised, and Percy feared that he’d gone too far—that he had pushed too aggressively past playful banter into rather uncomfortable territory. “That is—“

“Good.” She seemed to be regarding him with the same sharp focus that she’d leveled on the draft reports that they’d hammered out. “I wasn’t kidding, Percy. I do find you attractive.”

“Ah,” he said. “Good.”

She crossed her arms. “So. May I ask why a Ministry up-and-comer like yourself didn’t have a date to his own sister’s wedding?”

“I…” Percy shifted from foot to foot. “Well, the wedding was on fairly short notice. Six weeks.” _Seven, actually._

She seemed to be waiting.

He looked down, so that the brim of his ridiculous floppy hat blocked the sight of her face. The words dragged themselves out of him. “I… did.”

“Ah.” When she crossed her arms, Percy realized that what he had been looking at where those lovely, lovely—

“I had been engaged. To be married.”

“Yeah?”

He forced himself to look up. Her face was serious, as he had so infrequently seen it, but she was listening. “She—Asteria—ismuch younger than I. She comes from an old family, which I only say to explain how it was that she managed to be assigned to the Department for International Cooperation straight out of Hogwarts.”

“You come from an old family too.” When he blinked at her, Audrey smiled—that wicked smile again. “I did my homework.”

“I would expect no less from you. In any case, we were engaged. But it didn’t work out. The invitations to my sister’s wedding had already... My mother was quite solicitous, as she is wont to be. She has been sending me owls daily with the names of prospective young ladies to bring to the wedding ever since. None struck even the slightest interest.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Truly,” he insisted.

“Okay. I’m... honored. What was your fiancée’s name again?”

“Asteria. Asteria Greengrass.”

“Sounds like a hotel.”

“Actually,” he answered with a bit of a smirk, thinking that comparing Asteria to a public lodging was remarkably apt, “it’s a flower.”

“Uh-huh.” Her arms remained crossed. “Any lingering anything for... Asteria?”

“No.” Again her eyebrow arched, but Percy held his ground. “It had been clear to both of us for some time, I think, that our views of marriage—of the world—were rather different. She was looking for a traditional pureblood alliance. I was—” ( _The more fool I_ ) “—looking for something that included love and commitment.”

Again Audrey looked as if she were auditing his words carefully. “Her loss.”

“I would like to think so.”

“So who broke it off?”

Percy tastes the sour anger of the memory. Finding Asteria once again... dallying. “Me.”

“May I ask why?” Audrey’s gaze was clear and level. She stepped closer. “I know it’s a personal question, but if you can answer it, it’ll give me a better idea of who you are. And Percy, I really do want to know who you are.”

He felt his breath flutter again. “Let us simply say that she had demonstrated—and not for the first time—that her ideas of what constitutes the basis for a marriage differed greatly from mine.”

“Ah.” Audrey smiled again, but it was a sad smile. “Found her in bed with someone?”

“Several someones.”

“At... the same time?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.”

“Indeed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was the best thing that could have happened.”

“I suppose. I can see why you wouldn’t be in a hurry to find another date, though.”

“True. And... She will be there tonight.” He closed his eyes again. Waiting for the explosion.

It didn’t come—not precisely. Audrey whistled. “Wow. Why in the hell would she want to come to her ex’s sister’s wedding? To rub your nose in it? Doesn’t sound like much fun.”

Percy shook his head, daring to look at her again: her high bronze cheeks were bowed in skepticism. “As I said, this is a rather major social event. I think she would rather have chewed her own foot off than miss it. And when the invitations were owled out, my mother had sent Asteria her own rather than slight her, as I believe Mother saw it, by having her attend merely as my guest.”

Audrey whistled again. “Ouch. I suppose rescinding an invite isn’t exactly protocol.”

He shook his head.

Favoring him with a wink, Audrey laughed. “No wonder your mother is so desperate to set you up with someone. She must feel awful!”

Percy hadn’t thought of it in quite that way; it was hard enough to get past his own mortification. “Well, yes. I suppose that is part of it. In any case, I... I should have told you before asking. I apologize”

She smirked; it was a look Percy was very comfortable with, having been at its receiving end through so much of his life. “Nah. Family events are always little melodramas waiting to happen. I won’t know anyone here but you; it’s no skin off of my nose.”

He nodded, relieved. “I’m glad. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” She inched closer again.

“And you?” asked Percy, before the urge to lean in to those eyes, those lips overwhelmed him.

“Me?”

“Any wizards across the pond? Any plans to jump a broomstick any time in the near future?” He tried to make the question a light one, but he knew he had failed.

It didn’t matter. The smirk had vanished, replaced by a sad, thoughtful look. “No one cross the pond. And...” She bit her lip and shook her head; she was standing close enough now that her short hair brushed the brim of his hat. “Not so long ago I would have told you that I had no interest in ever getting married. That _marriage_ was just another word meaning _indentured servitude for witches._ ”

“Ah? And you’ve had a change of heart.”

She nodded, looking away.

“And what caused this change?” When her eyes met his again, he could see that she was unsure whether to answer. “I understand that it is a personal question, but I assure you that, if you answer it, it will give me much better idea of who you are. And, Audrey, I am very, very interested in getting to know who you are.” He reached out and took her hand.

She nodded, a bit grimly, but did not pull back from him. “I... was having what I thought was a really casual, really pleasant relationship. It was a rebound relationship for him, just a fling, we both knew it; I was the one who initiated it, because.... But when it ended—when he left, heading back to the girl he was in love with—I realized that I...” She bit her lip again.

“What? You wanted something more?”

She shrugged and then nodded.

“I can understand that.” He squeezed her long fingers. “And any feelings still for…?” He waited for her to provide the fool’s name, but she seemed to be thinking about something else entirely.

“Nah,” she said, and reached up, removing his hat, stepping close so that the space between them seemed to be made up mostly of heat.

“Audrey, you’re leaving soon.”

“Yup. And we’re going to have an ocean between us.”

“True.” He let his hand slip along her long waist. “Then again, someone wise once told me that anything’s possible if you have the nerve.” And with that, he leaned forward, capturing her lush lips as he had longed to do through all of those long, complex, dry discussions of amortization schedules and interest rates. She whimpered into his mouth, her hands pulling him closer, and it felt as if Percy were kissing for the first time, though this was hardly the case. Yet with none of the others had kissing ever felt so right, so _complete_ , so—

“I am terribly sorry,” piped a creaky voice from behind Percy. “I do so hate to interrupt, but I am afraid that you are blocking the path.”

Breathless, reluctant, Percy broke from Audrey, turning and adjusting his glasses to find an ancient witch and wizard in loden robes peering up at them. “I am so sorry,” he said.

“Perfectly all right,” said the wizard, smiling up them. “I know that Merlin’s Tomb has enormous historical and architectural significance. However, I must say, were I you two, I should find a rather more private venue—preferably one with a nice feather bed handy—before continuing any further. Wouldn’t you say so, Plumeria, my sweet?”

The witch laughed—really, it had to be characterized a _cackle_ —as the old pair toddled along, pausing only to pinch Percy on the bum as she past.

Once they had turned the bend, Percy looked back down at Audrey. Her eyes—the same color as the Irish Sea behind her—were wide. Her mouth—red as dew-washed roses—was open.

“Inn,” Percy said, as the sensation of her pounding heartbeat, of her fingers still searching against the back of his shirt pressed thought and breath from him. “Same village as the wedding?”

She nodded and pressed her lips, her _self_ to him, and Percy, visualizing nothing more or less than her naked form in one of the feather beds at the Calico Cat, turned them both, Apparating away from the Cornish coast.

For once, the constriction of Apparating wasn’t the slightest bit unpleasant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, those of you who have read Intermezzo know one of the surprises that's coming. Those of you who haven't... Well, you should. Read it, that is. :-)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: More Percy-ness. Bits of angst. Lots of strongly implied hanky-panky!

_25 October, 2003 — 11:21am_

It was her spine that mesmerized Percy in the moment, sprawled there on the Calico Cat's gingham comforter. As she lay there atop him, panting into his neck, desperate to catch her breath as he was himself, he had a perfect view down the back of her tousled head, her neck, and her sinuous, heaving back.

He realized that one of the things that he found so intensely attractive about Audrey was the way in which she seemed always to be in motion, even when she was at rest. Just looking at her made him feel alive in a way that he so infrequently felt. And there, that long, sweat-bright line down the middle of her back coiled and uncoiled—he could feel it, could feel her breathing, but the _sight_ of her...

_Potential energy._ That's what Professor Vector had called it. The constant, accumulated _possibility_ of something amazing.

She laughed, and he could feel that too, and he groaned, which made her laugh some more. She bit gently at his throat, and nipped his chin, and then she deposited a long, sweet kiss on his mouth, and he was in her, he could still feel that, but she was inside of him as well, in some profound way, and he found himself laughing too.

They lay there on the still-made bed, he with his pants and trousers around his ankles and his glasses crossways on his face, she with her vest dangling from one elbow, and they cackled. Together.

Finally, in spite of what either of them might have wished, they unjoined. And that made Percy moan with sadness, but Audrey slid to his side and held him tight, and they lay there for a moment, very still.

_Potential energy._

She drew a fingertip down his hairless chest, and he ran five of them along the high miracle of her bum— _Why should such a masterpiece ever have to be closed away?_ some seldom-heard-from part of Percy's brain mused.

Gooseflesh sprouted along her back and she shivered, the bright, diffuse light from the window causing her to glisten. To glow.

“You were right,” she said, wrapping herself tight to him. “It definitely is a lovely, warm Octopus.”

That set Percy giggling again, which made Audrey laugh, and they were off again, giggling and howling, and then tickling.

No one ever tickled Percy. He'd taught himself not to respond to such attacks at an early age, purely as a survival skill, living amongst the madmen with whom he shared his home. But _this..._

This was as far from torture as any experience could be. Or perhaps it _was_ torture, but if it were, oh, it was a torture to which he would submit any day of his life.

And she—she was _gloriously_ ticklish, and the sight of her squirming there, the feeling of her writhing to get away from beneath him, it filled him...

And they made love again. Less frantic now. Paying attention now, as if to say, _Ah,_ _that's how that behaves_ and _Yes, that feels nice too, doesn't it?_

It was a long, wordless conversation, and they established many points of commonality and also of complementary tension—ways in which their differences _worked_.  
  
It helped, of course, that they were both excellent, experienced negotiators.

: :

_25 October, 2003 — 12:23pm_

When they came to rest again, Percy's glasses were long gone, and so now he could see only the closest bit of her: the muscles and sinews of the outside of her right lower thigh. He marveled at the amazing color of her—a warm, honey bronze that lightened as it disappeared into the fog that a foot's distance made of everything to him, near-sighted as he was.

And yet that small patch, on the outside of one leg—even that seemed to ripple in stillness—as if it were a holograph of her whole, vibrant being, that one small bit of flesh.

He kissed it, and she sighed.

Then she sighed again, and ran her fingers through his sweaty hair.

When had he ever had sweaty hair? Gardening. Fighting at Hogwarts the night that Fred died.

Making love to Luna had occasionally been strenuous, and certainly full of surprises, but mostly it had been vaguely stressful. She always wanted Percy's pleasure to be even greater than it was, and it had got rather exhausting, actually, convincing her that he was enjoying himself. But sweaty? Not terribly. Sex with Asteria had certainly never been half-hearted. Whatever her faults, Miss Greengrass was an _engergetic_ lover; however, Percy had come to their bed every night with the hope that he would be able to satisfy her as quickly as possible—since her satisfaction never seemed to be enough for her.

And there had been a few other lovely liaisons over the years. Percy enjoyed sex; he was enough of a man—enough of a _Weasley—_ that even what he recognized to be his own stuffiness didn't get in the way of that.

But as he lay there, Audrey's high cheek tucked into the crease of his hip, he realized that nothing that he'd ever experienced with any of the others had been anything like this.

Audrey sighed again.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, though immediately he regretted it. Here he had been comparing her to the other girls that he had been with over the years. Comparing her beyond favorably, to be sure, but even so, he couldn't help but worry whether she were wishing that the idiot who had left her—had broken her heart—were the one there tangled up with her on the bed, and not the skinny Brit with glasses. Who didn't even have the glasses at the moment.

“I'm thinking,” said Audrey, her voice rumbling through him, “that I could get very, very used to this. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking very much the same thing.”

“Hmm.”

“I was thinking,” he found himself saying for the second time in a very short time, “that anything is possible if you've got enough nerve.”

“Percy.” She sat up, and the air cooled her sweat where her cheek had been so that he shivered. “Can't we just enjoy this? Right now?”

“Of course,” he said, and began kissing his way back up her body. When he reached her mouth, however, before his lips touched hers, they betrayed him. “Audrey—“

“I can't leave the US, Percy, I can't. I've got my work, sure, but... My dad's only got me, and he _won't_ come back here, even with Voldemort gone, he went crazy thinking I was even coming here for a week, I've had to Floo him every night, and I—“

“Shh,” said Percy, and calmed her with a kiss, and found that enjoying _right now_ was remarkably easy.

It didn't stop the realization from bursting into his brain like one of George and Ron's fireworks. He pushed back from her just enough that he could see her eyes. “Your mother. She died during the war?”

Audrey nodded slowly. A look of pain “The Ministry—your Ministry—wasn't even admitting that there _was_ a war at the time. My dad's cousin died—the Ministry said it was an accident—but then people with white masks showed up at the funeral and—“

“I remember.” Percy had been one of the Ministry functionaries helping in the aftermath—two dead, another dozen badly injured. Had interviewed William Abbott—though listening to the man sob incoherently about how he had known coming back to England was a mistake could hardly be called an interview. Percy had reported directly to Minister Scrimgeour, had watched the color drain from the former Auror's face as the reality had set in: that the Death Eaters were loose, that they were attacking not just the Muggle-born, but even old families like the Abbotts—or the Boneses, or the Weasleys—who were known to sympathize with those who were not born into the magical world.

In retrospect, Percy wondered if Scrimgeour had realized in that moment that his own days were numbered. “I'm sorry.”

Audrey laughed, but it was a sad laugh, most unlike her. “He wasn't himself again for a long, long time. When I joined the Ministry after I left school, I had to move him out to New York. He's back in San Francisco now, back with his friends, and he knows the war's over here, that it ended five, six years ago, but it doesn't take much...”

“The war remains with all of us still,” Percy said, stroking moisture from her cheek. “I understand.”

“Yeah,” Audrey sighed. “You lost a brother, didn't you?” When Percy blinked, she chuckled—a little more like herself. “I told you. I did my research.”

“Of course you did,” said Percy. He kissed her, and they held on to each other, each of them feeling the cold creeping in to their warm, sunlit room.

They made love again, and then once more, each time with a ferocity that almost drove any thought of any time but _right now_ out of their heads.

: :

_25 October, 2003—4.22pm_

Percy was having the most amazing dream. In it, Audrey kept calling out to him: “Darling! Have you taken your clothes off?”

“Of course, my precious!“ he would call back, and enter a bedroom the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts—but each time, Audrey, who was lying in the mammoth, silk-draped bed and wearing nothing but a piece of white tule atop her unkempt head, would start to laugh, and Percy would look down to realize that he still had his work robes on. “I'll be right back, my love!“ he would shriek, and run back to their bathroom, tear off the robes and sprint back into the enormous bedroom... only to find Audrey howling with laughter, because he still had the blasted robes on....

Laughter.

Laughter woke him, laughter and a warm, naked body rumbling against his own. “Audrey?” he mumbled.

“Huh?”

“'So funny?”

“Funny?”

“You're laughing.”

“I...?” She rolled away from him, and his world was a diffuse golden mist. “I was dreaming.”

He started to search for his glasses, but the first thing that he managed to grab was her shoulder. “Ah.”

“Here,” she said, pressing his glasses into his hand.

“Thank you.” He slid them onto his face, and was astonished though perhaps not surprised to see just how lovely and how thoroughly debauched she looked—hair wild, creases from the sheet marked into her skin. “Wow.”

She laughed again and covered herself with her hands.

Percy pulled her hands away, and she didn't resist; her expression challenged him to look his fill, which wasn't a difficult challenge to accept. “It must have been a nice dream.”

“Hmm.” She smiled, sphinx-like, and Percy had negotiated with her long enough through the previous week to know that he wouldn't be getting any further information from her.

“I was dreaming too,” he ventured. “I think I was dreaming about... our honeymoon.”

“Hmm,” she said, the grin broadening, and she climbed on top of him. When he reached up to her, she snorted and grabbed his hands. “Again? _Really_?”

“To be honest,” mused Percy, “I don't know that I could—physically. But I wouldn't mind trying.”

Audrey laughed—a bright, high _angelus_ of a laugh—and Percy's heart soared, for all that his body was wonderfully sore. “It's just as well!“ she giggled. “Aren't we supposed to be going to a wedding?”

_Wedding?_ Percy blinked at her—his dream flooding back into his mind, the image of her waiting for him on the sea of red silk mixing with the very real feel of her against him to make concentrating on anything but the texture of Audrey's skin terribly difficult—but then the memory of the invitation that his father had Spel-o-Taped to the wall of his Ministry cubicle flashed back, and with it all of the anxiety of the last six weeks. “The wedding!“

“Right.”

“What time is it? We're supposed to be there by five o'clock!“ He sat up, upsetting Audrey's perch on his pelvis and dumping her on the duvet. He couldn't decide which made his sweat run colder: the idea of disappointing his mother, the idea of disappointing his sister, or the idea of—once again—seeming to slight Harry, whom he had worked with for the past five years and had come to respect enormously.

“Slow down, Flash!“ squealed Audrey. “It's only four-thirty—we've got time!“

Percy froze and realized that he had been pulling on his socks and hiking shoes before he'd bothered with his shirt or his trousers, let alone his pants. Let alone the carefully Petrified dress robes that were still stiff as a board in his pocket. “Four-thirty?”

Audrey managed to pull herself upright and pointed to the clock on the mantel, which indeed read half-four. “And I don't mind broadcasting the scent of what we've just been doing—proud of it actually—but then, I won't know anyone there but you. Don't you think you should take a shower?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Ah. Yes. Probably. Yes.”

She graced him with another smile that he had come to recognize only that day: a wicked, catlike grin that promised so much... “Like the look of you standing there in just your socks and boots.”

Percy blushed, but didn't bother trying to cover himself. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

“Flash?”

“Huh?”

“You called me... Flash.” Percy was the one member of his family who had grown up utterly devoid of nicknames—unless you counted _Big-head Boy_ or _Perfectly Pratly Percy_ —and so to be labeled with the moniker gave him an odd sense of warmth.

“Oh.” Audrey's grin went from feral to sheepish. “Muggle comic book thing. He was fast. And... red-headed. He was my favorite hero.”

“I'm your hero?” That warm feeling spread.

She lifted her chin. “Yup.”

Percy wasn't used to being _anyone's_ hero. Harry—he epitomized the role. Even Ron. Ginny too. Bill. Charlie. Fred... Percy shivered, but pushed up the smile that he had been feeling initially. “Thank you. I think you are quite heroic yourself.”

“Hardly.” She snorted and pointed over her shoulder to the bathroom. “Shower?”

Now the smile blossomed of its own accord. He held out a hand. “Only if you'll join me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: More Percy-ness. Some much-expected fireworks(!)

_October 25, 2003 - 4.44_

They managed to shower without too much distraction; well, perhaps they were rather more assiduous in their ablutions than was absolutely necessary, but they nonetheless managed to shower in a fairly timely fashion, had dried off and were beginning to dress.

Percy turned away, not out of any sense of shame, but not wishing to see the lean glory of her shutting itself away from him. _You’ll see her again_ , he told himself, but a niggling part of his mind, the one that always reminded him that his efforts rarely met the standards that he set for himself, murmured in his mind, _She’s going back to America…_

“Ready,” announced Audrey just as Percy was smoothing the creases on his robes’ cuffs.

He looked over his shoulder, and saw that she had turned away too. He couldn’t imagine that it had been out of modesty. Her back, which had so transfixed him earlier, was covered in black now, and yet seemed just as full of promise. Of potential.

She turned toward him, using her wand to finish drying her hair. “Didn’t think I was going to be getting dressed up at all this trip, sorry. I only brought my BPs.”

“No problem.” Every mid-level Ministry employee the world over had a set of Black Protocol robes—formal enough for any occasion, but not so flashy that they took attention away from the guest of honor (or, for that matter, the boss). “You look lovely. You would look beautiful in any robes.”

“‘And even more beautiful _out_ of them.’ Yeah, I’m sure.” Audrey smirked, but she was also managing to blush.

“Hmm.” Her lips were the most amazing plum color….

“C’mon,” she said,her voice a little breathless, “we’ve got a wedding to get to.”

“Right.”

On the way down to the Calico Cat’s innyard, they ran into Sally Fawcett, a classmate of Luna and Ginny’s whose family owned the place. Percy greeted her, and Sally mumbled in response but didn’t look up from her copy of _Witch Weekly_. The only visible flesh—Sally’s nose, her forehead, her neck—were flaming.

“I think we may have been a bit loud,” whispered Audrey as they strode out toward to Apparition point.

Terror at what Sally’s mother would be telling Percy’s mother quickly retreated before his certainty that he would be introducing Audrey to his parents that evening. He cleared his throat in a manner that even he found ridiculously priggish in himself. “Hold onto my arm,” he said, “and I’ll Apparate us there.”

_October 25, 2003 - 4.53_

They arrived in the lane leading to the Burrow. A pair of Aurors stood at the gate—Hennessy and Hine, both new enough that they looked pleased to be serving as the security detail at Harry's wedding. Harry and Ginny's wedding.

Audrey whistled. "Wow. I guess this _is_ a fancy do. Aurors at the gate?"

"Yeah," said a very familiar voice from behind Percy, "they want to keep out the riffraff, like my brother here."

"Hello, Charlie." Percy turned, sighing at the inevitability of it all; he should have expected that what dignity that remained to him in Audrey's eyes would be savaged by his brothers. "May I introduce Audrey Abbott? This is my second eldest brother, Charles."

Audrey extended her hand, which Charlie shook with typical vitality. "Pleasure," she said with a smile, and cocked her head to the dark, quiet figure to Charlie's left.

Charlie grinned. "This is Bullroarer."

The man winced.

"Is he your... date?" Audrey asked, managing to sound both diplomatic and piquantly pert.

Charlie laughed, and the man called Bullroarer favored them with a scowl and a quick, "No."

"Charlie prefers the company of females," said Percy. And then, because Audrey's presence seemed to inspire him, he added, "Of course, in general they have a forty-foot wingspan, breathe fire and lay eggs."

Charlie laughed again. Even Bullroarer managed to scowl a bit less.

"You must be Charlie," said Audrey. "The dragon handler."

Charlie winked at Percy—the sort of signal that the other male Weasleys all seemed to comprehend instinctively, but that Percy had never understood—was Charlie sharing a joke? Was he letting Percy know he approved of Audrey? Was he flirting with her? Charlie grinned and opened his mouth to speak, but the saturnine Bullroarer raised his hand to Charlie's mouth, stilling whatever vaguely obscene remark he was about to make, and they all laughed.

Once they had settled down, Hennessy, who was always eager, called to them, "Invitations?"

Percy took the opportunity to wink back at Charlie, though what Charlie might take him to mean by the wink he himself couldn't have said, and showed his invitation to the Auror.

Once they were all through, Audrey turned to Bullroarer and asked, "So, do you work at the dragon reserve as well?"

"Yes."

"Huh. And... Is your name really Bullroarer?"

There was a pause. "No."

"Ah." Audrey turned toward Percy; she seemed to be holding in laughter.

"Oi!" George strode up to them in dress robes of eye-watering chartreuse. "If it isn't two of my favorite brothers! Say, Perce, your date's a hell of lot prettier than Charlie's!"

Bullroarer grunted, and Charlie snorted. "He's not my _date_. I brought him because I wanted him to meet—"

"Hey, speaking of dates, Percy, just thought I'd warn you..." George gave Audrey a cagey stare, and apparently decided her worthy. "Hysteria's here."

Percy nodded. He'd objected to his siblings' nickname for his one-time fiancée, but in the moment, he realized how well it fit. "Yes. I assumed that she would be." _Thank you ever so much, Mater._

"Yeah, well, what you won't have guessed is that she decided that her invite entitled her to bring a bloody guest." George lowered his voice. "And you'll never in a million years guess who."

Percy prayed that it wasn't Smith, Zabini, Harris or Parkinson; he'd seen altogether more of them—all of them—than he would ever need to see. "Oh?"

"Malfoy," George whispered.

"Mal...?" Charlie muttered. "Thought they left the country!"

"Apparently ferret-boy came back."

"Ferret-boy?" Audrey's face returned to the blank, diplomatic mask that Percy had seen so much of in the first days of working with her. _Does she know something?_

George snorted. "Maybe he's come back to visit Daddy in Azkaban. Doesn't matter. He's here now."

Looking at Audrey's now-unmoving face, Percy said, "The Malfoys were a family with Death Eater sympathies. Though they defected during the final battle, the father had committed a number of atrocities for which he has been serving a term in prison." _Could the raid on the funeral that killed Audrey's mother have been one?_

Audrey frowned.

"Yeah, well, that's not why we call Draco-the-Son ferret," sniggered George, and Charlie gave a snort. George winked. "A professor of ours... Well. You'll understand when you see him."

"I look forward to it," said Audrey, a smile blessedly melting her poker face.

"You lot are the last of the guests," said George. "Head on around to the garden—there's a marquee set up, you can't miss it. I've got to go let our young tiger out of the cage Hermione's had her in all afternoon." With that, he bounced back into the house through the front entrance.

"Wasn't the Malfoy brat the one who was always being rude to Ronnikins about our house?" mused Charlie.

"So I recall," said Percy, gazing up at the Burrow, whose ramshackle eccentricity had been the shame of his youth. "He must feel quite compelled to be here, to swallow what is left of his pride and come here as a guest."

"Maybe he's a Quidditch fan," said Audrey with a smirk that almost looked sincere.

Charlie laughed. "Come on, let's go see Gin-gin get herself hitched."

"You talk," Audrey said, "as if she were doing this on her own."

Now it was Bullroarer who laughed.

Percy took her hand as they walked around to the back of the Burrow. "Our sister is quite independent. But she has wanted this for a very long time."

"Yeah," agreed Charlie, thinking as Percy no doubt was of the endless weddings to Harry Potter that she had staged as a little girl—with her brothers rotating the roles of groom, guests and minister. Percy had most often been the minister, which had suited him well enough.

As they turned the corner into the back garden, a vision in buttercup yellow floated toward them. "Hello, Percy. Hello, Charles."

Percy swallowed down a twinge of mingled panic and regret; Luna looked lovelier than ever, and half as earthbound. "Good evening, Luna. May I introduced Audrey Abbott?"

Audrey extended her hand with a politician's practiced poise, and Luna took it, gazed at her, then rather shrewdly at Percy, leaned forward and kissed Audrey's fingers. Even a politician couldn't stand up against Luna for long—it was one of the reasons for which Percy had been so fond of her—and so he didn't blame Audrey for allowing her jaw to drop.

"You must be a very wonderful lover," said Luna with her sunniest smile. "I've never seen Percy look so like himself, not even after he and I had had sex all night long."

Percy's jaw joined Audrey's on the browning autumn grass.

"You know," Charlie guffawed, "I'm sure you're right, Luna! Here, I've brought someone along too, someone I wanted you to meet. This is my friend, Bullroarer. Bullroarer, this is the young lady I was telling you about, Luna Lovegood."

Smiling that same moon-cloud smile, Luna released Audrey's hand and took Bullroarer's.

He was staring at Luna with an expression either of fascination or terror; it was difficult to tell. He gave her hand a minute shake; his jaw worked for a moment before he started to talk: "I'm... not..."

"Charlie's lover? No. I should imagine not," Luna burbled. "Though if you were that would be perfectly all right as well. Charles and I have very similar tastes, you know."

He grunted.

"Is your name really Bullroarer?"

"No," came the usual terse reply.

"He doesn't talk much," said Audrey.

"He spends the coin of speech wisely," offered Percy.

Luna took the taciturn gentleman's arm in hers. "Oh, Mr. Not-Bullroarer, I bet that I could get you to string three words together."

For the first time, Bullroarer gave them a small, dark smile. "You'd lose."

They all chuckled as they approached the marquee.

Charlie, Bullroarer and Luna wandered in. The guests were all still standing, mingling, but it did look fairly full.

"So," said Audrey, and when Percy peered at her, she was staring at him with her head cocked at an angle, as if seeing something in him that she hadn't expected. "Luna?"

Percy sighed. "Yes. Luna. For six months or so, a couple of years after the war." That twinge—definitely both panic and regret now—fluttered through him again. "We both recognized that it could never work. She was much younger than I, of course." _The same age as Asteria, not that that stopped you_. "Of course, she said that I was the youngest soul that she had ever met."

"I suppose I can see that," Audrey said with a grin. "Lucky for you, I like younger men."

"Indeed. Lucky for me." He took her hand again. "Do you approve?"

"Of Luna? Absolutely!" She stepped closer. "And not just because she thinks I'm a _very wonderful lover._ "

"You are, you know." He closed the distance between them. He was sure that protocol could withstand a man kissing a beautiful young woman at a wedding. If it couldn't, he wasn't entirely certain that he cared.

"Oh, look, Draco!" A smooth, high voice pierced Percy's revery. "It's the last of the Weasley brothers to arrive. He worked at the Ministry with me, did you know?" Asteria strode out of the marquee, pulling a thin, pale, rather threadbare Draco Malfoy along. Clearly she had been awaiting Percy's arrival for just such an opportunity.

"How lovely to see you, Miss Greegrass," Percy said, putting on his own politician's smile. "Mr. Malfoy." He didn't say, _Actually, Malfoy, you arrogant young twit, she used to work_ **for** _me, until I found her in our bed with four of her friends, whereafter I transferred her into Records and she quit._ He was quite proud of his own restraint."May I introduce Audrey Abbott, from the— _"_

_"_ Charmed," said Asteria, extending a taloned hand. "You don't need to tell us what... agency you got her from, Percy, dear, though it clearly wasn't one of the more exclusive ones. I know your family wasn't terribly sophisticated but advertising for her is hardly _comme il faut._ "

Rage flooded through Percy. Even Malfoy had the good grace to wince his needle-nosed face.

Audrey took Asteria's hand as if she were greeting the Minister himself. "It is a pleasure, Miss Greengrass. I've heard so much about you." Before Asteria could continue, Audrey stepped back and looked at Percy with an expression that definitely fit the cat-who-swallowed-the-canary cliché. "Actually, as it happens this evening I've been the one to pay Percy—what was it, Percy, twenty-six million Galleons?"

"Actually," said Percy, as his fury gave way to something like exultation, "if you factor in the amortized interest on short-term loans that you have allowed us—that is, me—to forego, something closer to thirty-eight million. And a half."

"Right. And a half. Tell me, Mr. Malfoy, did Miss Greengrass pay you as well as that?" Audrey smiled at Draco now, and the smile became increasingly predatory. "Perhaps not, since, from what my sources tell me, Miss Greengrass likes to hire escorts... in bulk."

Draco managed to lose what little pigment he had—except for the sharp tips of his nose and chin, which pinkened—while Asteria stood frozen, but bright, bright red.

"Tell me, isn't _Asteria_ the name of a hotel?" asked Audrey, her smile now sweet and—to all appearances—innocent.

"No," answered Percy, amazed and pleased that his voice sounded even. "As it happens, it's a kind of flower. Rather a common one, actually."

Percy watched Asteria twitch, watched her fingers flutter up to the sleeve on her opposite arm where she would have stored her wand. _Try it,_ he thought. _Please, please, try it_.

"Er, Asteria, my love," said Malfoy in a pinched drawl, "perhaps we ought to find a seat?"

Percy's erstwhile fiancée shook herself, like a dog shedding water. "No, Draco, darling. That won't be necessary. We're _leaving_."

"What a shame," Percy said. "Are you certain you don't want to stay for the reception, at least? You always did rather enjoy a nice tuck-in."

Asteria growled—really, that was the only word for it—and dragged a rather bewildered-looking Draco Malfoy with her away around the front of the house and—blessedly—out of sight.

Once they were gone, Percy turned to Audrey, who was looking at him rather thoughtfully. "Audrey?"

"Yeah, Flash," she said, giving his hand a squeeze.

The pressure seemed to flood him with warmth—or perhaps it was the nickname, and the memory of how they'd been tangled when she'd bestowed it on him. "Audrey Abbott, I have to tell you... You are my hero."

She laughed that golden bell of a laugh, and they kissed again. She murmured into his lips. "So, likely to be any more girlfriends l'm going to have to rescue you from at the wedding?"

"I shouldn't think so. There is only one woman here that I care about, my sister and my mother notwithstanding, and I don't need or want rescuing from her."

She laughed—he could feel her whole body laughing. "Flatterer. Come on, let's go in before your sister's hitched and we've missed the whole thing." Still holding his hand, she led him toward the tent.

"Audrey," Percy found himself saying, "I'm sorry that you've had—"

But Audrey had stopped, and her expression had frozen, so that the smile looked more like a grimace.

"Audrey?" Percy followed her gaze. "What—?"

" _Shit_." She was staring at the far end of the tent, where Ginny's groom-to-be seemed to be looking back at her, a hand raised in an almost-wave, an air of vaguely pleased shock on his face. "Oh. Oh. _Shit_. She's marrying _Harry_?"

And with that she began to back up, slowly at first, but then more and more and quickly, until Percy was all but jogging to keep up, and then she stumbled over the threshold of the Burrow's rear entrance and fell backward into the kitchen, landing gracelessly—though beautifully, Percy couldn't help but feel—on her bum, her head resting on white satin slippers that happened to cover Ginny Weasley's feet.

Audrey stared up at Ginny. Ginny, astonished but amused, stared back down. From behind Ginny's shoulder, Hermione seemed to be sending frantic semaphore signals signifying... something.

"Ginny," said Percy, falling back on protocol, which had so often saved him in the past, "may I introduce Audrey Abbott? Audrey, this very beautiful bride is my sister Ginevra. And yes. The lucky gentleman whom she is about to marry is indeed Harry Potter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say, the exchange with Asteria and the recognition of Harry are scenes that I'd been dreading, but were a blast to write. Hope you enjoyed them!
> 
> Oh, and what did you think of Bullroarer? :-)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Fireworks. More Percy-ness.Also Luna-ness. On-stage H/G (at last). Implied femmeslash. Angst. Wedding-y fluff.

_October 25, 2003 - 5.12PM_

Ginny reached down, and for a moment Percy was seized with the fear that she was about to punch Audrey. His sister was certainly capable of it; she had given him a bloody nose once during his last year at Hogwarts when he had had the temerity to say something uncomplimentary about Harry, and the ripple of her shoulder muscles brought home to Percy the fact—which Percy, scarcely following Quidditch, could easily forget—that Ginny was a world-class athlete.

Instead, Ginny held out an open hand to Audrey. “Thanks so much for coming! We were so worried about Percy, here, after he kicked Hysteria out! I’m so happy that you could come to my wedding!”

Timidly—it was the first time that Percy could think of Audrey acting so—Audrey took Ginny’s hand and was pulled upright.

“Wow, you’re quite tall!” burbled Ginny, and Percy noticed that her eyes had a distinctly Luna-like width to them.

Apparently not having anything to say to that, Audrey shook Ginny’s hand a bit grimly. “Congratulations.”

It wouldn’t be accurate to say that Ginny’s eyes narrowed, but at the very least they returned to their normal size. She cocked her head toward Percy. “Did you say… Audrey?” She looked back to the woman in question. “Audrey _Abbott_?”

Percy’s mouth went dry when he saw the look of brave resignation settle on Audrey’s face; it told him more than he wanted to know. _Harry was on detached duty in New York while he and Ginny…_ She forced a polished smile—not _too_ bright—and answered simply, “Yes. That’s right.”

Ginny stared at Audrey, the fluttering of her white veil the only movement to show that she wasn’t a statue.

Behind her, Hermione was chewing madly on her lower lip, her hands fluttering at shoulder height in what seemed to be an attempt to keep Ginny from exploding out of her lovely strapless wedding gown.

Audrey shook Ginny’s hand again and began to withdraw it when Ginny’s mouth curved into a manic grin and she held onto Audrey’s hand hard enough that Audrey winced.

With a loud bark of laughter, Ginny pulled Audrey into an embrace. Surprise bloomed in Audrey’s face—and Hermione’s—like sunflowers. Both of them looked to Percy, but he had nothing to offer them.

“This is so wonderful!” squealed Ginny. “Does Harry know you’re here!?”

_Harry. Harry Potter. Harry Potter and Audrey Abbott._

“Uh, I think so,” answered Audrey, blinking as Ginny continued to squeeze her. “He waved at me.”

“Wonderful!” Ginny burbled. “Promise me you’ll have a dance with him!”

“Uh… Okay?” Audrey was staring at Percy still, but he still could not think of a way to help her.

“I’ve got you to thank for the fact that he can dance at all! That and…”—Ginny _sniggered_. It was a positively unsettling sound—” _other things_ as well!”

_Other things_? Percy couldn’t imagine what that could mean, and Audrey looked as if she might be ready to die rather than to tell him.

“Ginny,” said Hermione hoarsely, “your father is here.”

“There you are, Ginnikins,” said Arthur Weasley, taking off his Muggle top hat and entering the kitchen. “Merlin, you look… You look beautiful. Like a bride.”

“Oh.” Ginny let go of Audrey and turned, her lower lip trembling as Percy had not seen it do in over a decade. With a sob, she embraced their father. “Oh, Daddy.”

“There, there, dear.” Arthur too was looking rather teary, but he patted her back. “It’s wonderful to see you, Percy. And you must be the renowned Miss Abbott. We’re very excited that you could join us today.”

Audrey was still looking at Percy, but she had the presence to answer. “Thank you, Mr. Weasley. And… congratulations.”

Arthur Weasley flashed a rather wet smile while his daughter continued to sniffle into his chest. “Thank you.”

“Well…” Hermione offered, clearly trying to move things away from the inexplicable and back onto the agenda.

“Hullo, Hermione,” Luna’s breathy voice said from just behind Percy’s ear. “Hullo again, Audrey.” She hugged Percy from behind, which pushed him well over the edge of self-control to which he had scarcely been clinging. “Ginny, you shouldn’t be crying, you know. It’s well-known that estivating Nargles frequently swarm around crying brides.”

Ginny giggled.

“That’s better!” said Luna. “They’re waiting for you, by the way. Ron and Harry. They are both looking quite serious.”

“I’m the bride!” Ginny laughed. “They’ll wait!"

“I’ve no doubt they will,” said their father, “but are you sure you want to make them?”

Now Ginny sighed, even as she smiled. “No. Come on. Let’s do this.”

As the walked out the door, Hermione in their wake, Percy turned to Audrey. Her expression was bruised and tentative. “Percy—”

“‘Skinny Brits with glasses’?”

Audrey’s sigh was nowhere near as energetic as Ginny’s had been.

“Harry?” he said, looking down.

“For a few weeks at the end of the summer.” He could hear her robes rustle. A shrug, perhaps. “He… He was the one—“

“The one who made you think about marriage.” Unable to restrain himself, he looked back up.

“I’m so sorry, Percy. I had no idea…” She flashed him something like a smile. _Mouth the color of dew-washed roses…_ “Would it help at all if I told you that I honestly thought this was the last place on earth I’d run into Harry?”

“Really?” That seemed a rather odd thing to believe, but Audrey looked completely earnest, and while she may have been an extremely skilled negotiator, he didn’t think that she would have made much of a liar, and so he had to take her at face value. “I don’t know whether it helps or not, to be honest.”

“Fair enough.” Audrey smiled again, a less tentative smile this time, but sadder. “Look, I’m keeping you. I’ll wait at the Calico Cat. If you don’t come by, I’ll under—”

“I’ll bring you there,” said Percy, surprising himself. “Please, I want—”

“Don’t be silly, Percy,” said a moist, airy voice, and Percy and Audrey both turned in surprise toward the kitchen sink, on which Luna was sitting, peering out the window toward the marquee, tears dribbling out of her ridiculously large eyes. “I’ll stay here with Audrey.” She looked at them, blinked, and then stared back out the window. “Do you know, it’s odd—estivating Nargles seem terribly sensitive to the tears of brides. But when a bride’s friend, who has been in love with the bride and with the groom for a terribly long time, starts to cry, nothing at all seems terribly sensitive to that.”

Audrey looked as if Luna had just kicked her in the stomach, but Percy had been around the odd blonde much longer and had learned to take her peculiar, disconcerting statements more in stride. “I don’t know that that’s true, Luna. Audrey, can you keep the Nargles away from Luna while the wedding is going on? My mother made the wedding cake, and from what I’ve heard, you won’t want to miss it.”

She lifted her chin, looked him in the eye, and decided to play along. “Is it chocolate?”

“With raspberry jam and lots of sticky icing, I believe.”

“Sticky… icing?”

“The, um, goopy stuff? On the outside?” Though Percy considered himself a passable cook, baking was an art that he had never picked up. _Perhaps I should speak with Mother…._

“Oh, well, can’t miss that.” Her smile actually brightened slightly. “And we wouldn’t want those Nargles to come after Luna.”

“No.” Percy reached out and squeezed her hand. “Not to mention the fact that you just promised Ginny that you would dance with her soon-to-be-husband. I’ll be back as soon as the ceremony is over.”

“Okay.”

As Percy entered the marquee, his father and sister were already half way down the aisle, and yet he could not help but look back toward The Burrow, and could not help but see Audrey there, her chin rested on Luna’s shoulder, neither of them willing to attend the wedding, but both of them watching with no apparent ability to turn away.  
  


_October 25, 2003 - 5.30PM_

Two months before, Percy had been planning his wedding to Asteria. Well, more properly, he had been listening to Asteria plan it; her ideas about what their wedding should entail were so particular that his job was mostly limited to nodding, _hmm_ ing, occasionally lodging an official protest if Asteria’s plans seemed to be getting too elaborate, and keeping his mouth shut.

Of course, their planned wedding date had been the following summer. It hadn’t felt particularly real—all of the plans for holding the reception in the Ministry Atrium and for importing Antarctic shellfish had seemed quite fantastical, all the more so when he returned to their flat early one evening, hoping to surprise Asteria by cooking dinner, and found that she was already entertaining…

If he had taken the time to visualize how he would have liked his own wedding to look, he realized—as he watched from the back as Ginny and Harry exchanged rings and vows on that unseasonably warm October ( _Octopus_ ) evening—that it would have looked very much as that one did: just close friends and family, all clearly overjoyed to watch, nothing so extravagant that it took anyone’s mind away from the couple and the act that they were undertaking.

At home. That surprised Percy, since it had never occurred to him that he might want to get married at The Burrow as his eldest and youngest sibling had chosen to do. In spite of that, however, he found that the idea that Ginny and Harry were starting their married life there, at the home that so represented the ideas of _love_ , _commitment_ and _family_ for Percy himself, struck some part of Percy’s core. As Harry lifted Ginny’s veil and kissed her, as their locked gazes made it clear that, for tonight at least, there was nothing in the world for either of them but the other, Percy was shocked to find himself beginning to cry.

Harry and Ginny.

Harry and Audrey.

Ginny and Scott Whatsit, from the World Cup side.

Percy and Luna.

Percy and Asteria…

Percy and Audrey?

There was no way to be certain of what had happened between Audrey and Harry in New York—though Percy’s mind, coupled with his memorable recent experience, painted him several vivid scenes. Nor was there any way to know what Audrey felt about him. About Harry.

About him.

Could he trust again?

As everyone began to cheer, Percy hurried back toward the house, but stopped in his tracks when he saw Audrey and Luna striding toward him, arm in arm, cackling madly. “I take it you managed to keep the Nargles at bay?”

“Oh, yes,” said Luna, wiping a tear from one enormous eye.

“Good,” said Percy, uncertain what else to say. “May I ask… what caused you such… merriment, just now?”

Audrey paused in thought, but her silence once again told Percy more than he wanted to know. Of course, had he any doubt as to what it was that Audrey wasn’t sure that she wanted to tell him, he should have known that he could count on Luna. Just as cheerfully as before, Luna said, “Well, I was asking Audrey about what it was like to have sex with Harry, of course. I had always wanted to know, and I had had sex with Ginny, but I hadn’t—”

“You…?” Percy tried to keep his voice to a whisper, tried not to look around too wildly and attract the attention that he hoped that they had managed to avoid to that point. “You slept with… _Ginny_?” He shook his head, trying to clear it. “But… you were sharing a flat!”

“Yes,” sighed Luna. “For a little while. After she and Harry split up.” She gave the wan, waifish smile that always broke Percy’s heart. “I know that I wasn’t what she actually wanted, but I think that I helped a little.”

“I’m sure you did,” said Percy and Audrey together.

“In any case, I asked Harry to have sex with me too, just after he came back to Britain, but I think that he had finally realized that he wanted to marry Ginny. At least, I rather hope that that is why he refused.”

“I’m sure it was,” Percy said. Mostly, he was wondering how this girl could break his heart and make him so thoroughly uncomfortable at the same time.

Audrey cleared her throat and offered an apologetic smile. “But that isn’t why we were laughing just now.”

“No?”

“No,” offered Luna, grinning sunnily. “We were talking about what a funny lover you were.”

Cold flooded into Percy’s middle. “ _Funny?_ ” he asked through clenched teeth.

“Fun,” whispered Audrey, looking down now.

“Oh. Yes. That too,” agreed Luna emphatically. “You are so passionate and yet such a…” Luna blinked her huge eyes—always disconcerting—and turned to Audrey. “What was the word you used?”

Audrey mumbled, eyes still downcast. “A… _patchutchnik_.”

“A… what?” Percy asked, conscious that he was feeling very angry, and not certain why.

“A…” Audrey looked up now, and smiled—part apology, part amusement, her expression did soften his rage. He wasn’t sure why that was, either. “It was a word my mom used to use, a Yiddish word meaning a, uh, very _particular_ person.”

“Particular?”

She nodded very quickly. “At least I think it was Yiddish. I’ve never heard anyone else use it.”

“I see.” Percy took a deep breath. “And that was… funny?”

“Well,” tittered Luna, “yes. And it is a rather funny word. Oh, people are lining up to kiss Ginny. I think I’ll join them.” And without looking back, she skipped off toward the receiving line.

Audrey’s smile managed to maintain itself once Luna was gone. “Percy—”

“I’ve been trying to think how you could possibly not have known about the wedding. I don’t remember saying anything about him being Ginny’s fiancé, it’s true. But… the newspapers have been full of it for days—‘Boy Who Lived to Marry’ and all of that. You can’t have missed _that_!”

“Boy who… lived?” Audrey blinked at him, a model of honest perplexity. “Who’s that?”

“ _WHO…_?” growled Percy. “Come now, Audrey! Harry—! He defeated Voldemort when he was an infant—the only known person to have survived the Killing Curse! And again, five years ago! Every schoolchild…!” But as he said the words, Percy heard too Mr. Crouch grumbling, _Never assume that what’s the center of the universe in Britain is going to be a matter of interest in any other country._

Audrey shrugged. “They didn’t teach us that at Salem. I mean, some about the first war, yeah. And… He survived the Killing Curse? I thought that was impossible.”

“It is. For everyone but Harry Potter.”

Audrey’s eyes opened to Luna-like enormity. She peered over Percy’s shoulder—presumably at where Harry was standing, shaking hands while Ginny got… kissed. “Oh. Wow.” Audrey shook her head. “So, _he…_?”

“Yes.”

“I… I had no idea, Percy. Honest, I really didn’t.”

Trying to collect his thoughts and his emotions, Percy removed his glasses and cleaned them. Tried not to think of Audrey handing them to him as they lay naked in the bed at the Calico Cat. “I imagine that must have been very nice for Harry. He doesn’t like being a celebrity over here.”

“I bet not.” Audrey’s eyes were still focused past Percy, her brows furrowed in sympathy. She shivered, and her gaze returned to Percy. “I… When you invited me to the wedding, I… I assumed your sister was marrying whatshisname. The Quidditch player.”

“Scott… Whatsit? What on earth made you think _that_?” Percy felt heat and cold warring in his belly again, felt rage beginning to rise.

Audrey’s face, however, slid from utter abashment to a polished, politic half-smile in a heartbeat. “I will be happy to tell you, but at the moment your father, a colorful lady I assume is your mother, and a very tall black man—whom I very much hope you are going to tell me is _not_ the Minister—are walking toward us.” She smoothed his collar.

“Ah.” He turned to see his beaming parents escorting a very cheery looking Kingsley Shacklebolt out of the marquee toward them.

“There you are, Percy, Ms. Abott!” said Percy’s father, waving as if they were on the other side of Ottery St Catchpole, rather than ten feet away. “I thought you might have slipped away!” The Weasley paterfamilias… _winked_.

Percy groaned inwardly. _Oh. Merlin._ Putting on a smile that he hoped matched Audrey’s for noncommittal cheer, he gripped her elbow as gently as he could manage. “Audrey, may I introduce…” His nerve nearly failed him, but blessedly, training won out, and he managed to soldier on. “May I introduce my mother, Molly Weasley? Mother, this is Audrey Abbott, from the American Ministry.”

“So lovely!” Percy’s mother, who had been in a state of superhuman panic for the past month, reached out and clasped Audrey’s hand in both of hers. “So nice to meet you, such a lovely wedding!”

“Yes,” agreed Audrey as Molly Weasley appeared to milk her fingers. “Very lovely.”

“You were right, Arthur, such a nice young woman, I am sure that you and Percy—”

Watching as Audrey’s celadon irises were swallowed by an expanding sea of white, Percy turned her towards a chuckling Kingsley. “And Audrey, may I introduce the British Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt.”

“The miracle workers!” boomed Kingsley, and his voice was as _basso_ as ever.

“Mr. Minister, it’s an honor,” said Audrey, her voice rather higher than its usual rich alto.

Kingsley laugh rumbled forth, and Percy saw a number of heads turn—even before the war, Kingsley Shacklebolt had filled every room he entered, but since assuming the post of Minister for Magic, he drew attention everywhere, even at Ginny and Harry’s wedding. “Ms. Abbott, believe me, the honor is all mine. I spent two hours this afternoon going over the preliminary report that the two of you put together with Billy”—the American Minister—”and we’re both impressed. The two of you are quite a team!”

Aware that his parents were both beaming, Percy patted Audrey’s hand. “Thank you, Minister.”

Kingsley chuckled again. “I hope this boy has been entertaining you properly, Ms. Abbott, as a reward for your excellent work.”

“Oh, yes,” answered Audrey mildly, squeezing Percy’s fingers. “He’s been showing me the wonders of the West Country.”

Percy coughed, and he could feel the red creeping up from his collar. _Entertaining indeed._ “I brought her to the Stone Table at Lanyon Quoit and the Grimspound Barrow and— Uh…” Percy looked back; Audrey’s face remained a practiced mask, but her eyes sparkled, and Percy was certain that his parents and the Minister would know what happened _next_.

“I do hope you visited Merlin’s Tomb!” said Percy’s father. “Very romantic spot, that. I proposed to your mother there.”

As the elder Weasleys went misty-eyed and Kingsley grinned, Percy spluttered. Audrey came to his rescue. “We ran out of time, but Percy’s promised to show it to me properly.”

“Well, that’s good!” gushed Molly Weasley. “Now go and introduce this lovely girl to our newlyweds. I’m sure Ginny and Harry will love her.”

Now it was Percy’s turn to come to Audrey’s rescue. While she gaped, apparently unable to come up with a response, Percy said, “She’s met them, actually. Both of them.”

“How nice,” Percy’s mother said. “All the more reason for you to wish them well. Now! Time to Transfigure the tables and Summon the meal!”

As Percy led Audrey away, trying to think how even to open the conversation he knew they were about to have, terrified that he might find that he’d misjudged yet another woman, allowing himself to be led to the edge of losing himself—only in this case, if Percy were truly honest with himself, past the edge—Kingsley called out, “Ms. Abbott! Tell Billy that I told you that whatever he’s paying you, you deserve a raise!”

Audrey smiled and nodded, but her eyes never left Percy’s. As the approached the end of the almost-depleted receiving line, she leaned close and whispered, “Morgan. Scott Morgan, that was his name. The Quidditch player.” Clearly the intrusion of Percy’s parents and his boss hadn’t stopped their conversation for her any more than it had for him. “When Harry left, I… Percy, Harry never talked about your sister while he was with me, never even mentioned her name, but there was a hole in him—a Ginny-Weasley-sized hole that I could see as plainly as I could see that weird scar on his forehead. He was beyond gaga over her, even though they weren’t together. When he left, I… I wanted to know what kind of a woman could inspire that kind of crazy devotion; it’s something I guess I’ve always wanted, but didn’t really know it. So I did some quick research. It wasn’t hard to find out who Harry had been seeing before he came to the U.S.; I picked up a couple of copies of _Witch Weekly_ , and there they were. I thought it was because she was an athlete, you see, that they were in the scandal rags, but I guess you’re telling me he’s just as famous?”

“More so,” muttered Percy. “He hates it.”

“Oh.” Audrey pursed her lips and nodded. “Yeah, I bet he would. Anyway, once I had a name, that’s when I did all of that famous research about your family. I found out that she was a bit of a war hero—that a bunch of you were—that you lost a brother, that she and Harry had been seeing each other since school. That she had a really cute brother who worked in the British Ministry. Nothing that really told me why a man as great as Harry would go crazy over her. And then I saw a bunch of stories about her and my sister’s favorite Quidditch player supposedly being madly in love— _‘Playing a one-on-one, winner-take-all match that doesn’t look to have any losers_ ,’ I think I read—and I felt awful for Harry, knowing his heart must be breaking.”

“I gather that it was.” Percy could see the man in question beaming at Ginny, chatting with Seamus Finnegan and a young woman whom Percy vaguely remembered as having been in Ginny’s year. Harry Potter didn’t seem terribly heartbroken at the moment. “Though he broke hers first. I gather that he refused to marry her. That’s why they stopped seeing one another.”

“Yeah. That makes sense. I get the feeling Harry might have had some commitment issues. Though he clearly got over them.” When Percy looked back to her, Audrey too was looking at the happy couple, a sad frown on her warm face. “And then I forgot about it; decided that if she was the kind of woman who could break Harry’s heart, I didn’t want to be anything like her.”

“I see.”

“So, when I came here, it was all about the job, Percy.” She touched his shoulder. “It would have been anyway. And you…” She gave him a small grin, which he did his best not to return. “You _were_ cute. And serious. And so damn smart. And hey, I knew you were a war hero and all yourself—”

“Hardly,” spluttered Percy, feeling another blush coming on.

“Yeah, well, you _would_ say that. Anyhow, when you asked me to come yesterday, I thought she must be marrying Scott Morgan.”

“I see.”

She shrugged. “I’ll admit, I was still curious to meet her. But mostly, Percy, I came because you asked. And because the most attractive, most interesting skinny Brit I’d ever met wanted to spend the day with me. And that’s the truth.”

“Oh.” The last couple in front of them—odious cousin Mafalda and her latest boyfriend—finished wishing the newlyweds well, and suddenly there they were: Percy facing Ginny and Audrey Harry. “Best wishes, Ginevra,” Percy said, and gave his sister a brotherly kiss on the cheek.

“So it _was_ you!” Harry said to Audrey. “I’m so glad you’re here! Ginny, this is—”

“We’ve already met,” Ginny and Audrey both said.

“I introduced them before the wedding,” added Percy.

Ginny smirked. “We… ran into each other in the kitchen.”

Audrey’s face seemed to be trying to convey at least a dozen emotions. “I… Congratulations, both of you. Harry, I’m so pleased for you.” She leaned forward and gave her one-time lover and then his now-wife each a quick peck on the cheek. “Ginny, when Harry was in the States, he really did spend the whole time thinking about you.”

Ginny grinned; it was her scariest, wickedest grin. “Not the _whole_ time, from what I hear.” Both Harry and Audrey darkened, and Percy’s stomach twisted. Ginny turned to him. “Treat this one well, Perce. I wasn’t kidding in the kitchen—she did me a hell of a good turn. More than one. She definitely taught him some new tricks.” And she winked—that infuriatingly uncommunicative Weasley wink.

Audrey and Harry’s faces both flushed even more. At least they weren’t turning beet red, as Percy himself would have done. “Thank you, Ginny. I’m sure that that is good to know.”

They all laughed—not Percy himself, but Audrey and the Potters. _Ginny Potter_ —Fred had teased her mercilessly when he found that written over and over on scraps of parchment when she was twelve, just after the whole disaster with the Chamber of Secrets, until George had told him to back off. That was one of the few times that Percy could remember the twins fighting.

A deep gong rang. Ginny turned, peering back into the marquee, which was now set up for dining and dancing. “Oh! That was quick.”

“Never let it be said,” murmured Percy to Ginny, “that our mother ever served a meal late.”

Again the other three laughed. At least this time, Percy had meant to be funny.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again a big thank you to sherylyn, who has beta'd this fic; also to irislock, who not only inspired it, but looked this chapter over for me.

_October 25, 2003 - 6.31PM_

The tables were mostly set up to seat eight, but the four Weasley brothers (diminished by one best man and one fallen Fred) had all brought guests—to someone’s apparent surprise. With Luna seated there as well—between Charlie’s saturnine friend Bullroarer and Percy himself—they had magically expanded the table, but it was still a fairly tight fit.

Bill and Fleur didn’t seem to mind—they looked happy simply to have shipped Victoire and their baby, Dominique, off to Fleur’s parents for the weekend, and in any case always seemed pleased to be in each other’s lap. George and Angelina Johnson were the most ill-at-ease—they spent a great deal of energy pointing out that Angelina wasn’t George’s _date_ , that she had received her own invitation as a friend of both the bride and groom.

Percy wondered about how Asteria’s evening was going, and found that in spite of everything, her absence—thanks to Audrey—made him feel like smiling.

That didn’t keep him from feeling awkward with his date—nor, apparently, she with him.

As they ate, Percy listened to Bill and Charlie laying odds on how soon Ginny would be pregnant; Charlie and Fleur were not at all convinced that she wasn’t already. When they tried to pull Percy into the discussion, he simply shrugged. As it was, some rather somber hints dropped by their mother had given Percy reason to believe that their sister was definitely not expecting.

Audrey chatted with George and Angelina, answering their questions about Quodpot, which she kept trying to tell them she wasn’t terribly interested in, and about the American market for jokes and novelties, which seemed to interest her a great deal more.

Luna and Bullroarer were having a very arcane, animated conversation about the magical insemination of Norwegian Ridgebacks—animated on Luna’s side, at least. And though Bullroarer remained monosyllabic, his eyes burned fiercely; they never left Luna’s face. Percy was glad that they seemed to be enjoying each other’s company so well—glad that his one-time girlfriend’s mercurial mood had shifted back to the sunny end of the spectrum—but the subject of their discussion was less than conducive to his own appetite. When Luna began waxing poetic over the cheese course about _viscous secretions_ , he knew that he needed to focus elsewhere. Bill and Fleur were taking turns nibbling _frommage_ from each other’s fingers. George and Angelina were still talking about Quodpot, but their expressions and their tones of voice sounded as if they were actually discussing games of an entirely different, less public sort. Of course, where Percy’s eyes wandered next shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him, and yet, as he turned to his right, his world suddenly compressed to two sea-foam eyes, and he found that he couldn’t breathe.

She smiled—or at least the eyes curved into crescent moons again. “I haven’t talked about American sports that much since I did a report on baseball at Salem.”

“My family’s Quidditch-mad,” said Percy.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that,” murmured Audrey. “I mean, your sister does play the game professionally. But still—” She glanced over her shoulder; George and Angelina— _not_ George’s _date_ , no, no—were sitting so close together that his bright hair and her dark seemed to be tangling in each other. They weren’t talking about Quodpot any more. From what Percy could make out from their whispers and their serious expressions, they were talking about Fred.

Audrey looked back to Percy, her expression one of perplexity. She leaned closer to Percy until he could feel the warmth of her breath. “Fred...? Isn’t... Wasn’t he your brother?”

“George’s twin.”

“Oh.”

The assembly around them chattered on. Silverware and crystal sang. “Listen, Audrey, I need to—”

At that moment, the sound of a knife banging against a goblet cut through all of the hubbub and silenced the crowd. Hermione cleared her throat as the last conversation stilled. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she announced, “it’s time for Ginny and Harry to take the first dance.”

Harry and Ginny stood, hand in hand, and walked to the dance floor. As the guests applauded and stood, they took their place and glanced ever so briefly over towards Percy. No—towards Audrey. Then they both laughed, an unseen orchestra struck up a waltz, and Harry took Ginny in his arms and swept her, glowing, into a flowing, spinning three-step.

“Merlin,” muttered George, “I seem to remember Harry dancing like a goblin with arthritis. Has our lad been having lessons?”

Looking at Audrey, who was watching the newlyweds with rapt attention, Percy answered, “I do believe that he has, as it happens.”

“Oh, yes,” burbled Luna, “that was one of the other things that he learned from Audrey here.”

Suddenly, Percy was intensely aware of his brothers and their guests _not_ looking at his own date. He could hear her groan quietly.

“Audrey was Harry’s liaison in New York while he was on assignment there this summer,” Percy offered as a graceful way out for all of them.

He hadn’t been certain that his brothers would take it—not Charlie and certainly not George—but if he had thought about it, he ought to have known that it would be Angelina who would keep them among the rocky shoals. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?” she snorted.

“Calling what?” Luna asked, looking bewildered. “Dancing?”

Bullroarer’s face bent in what looked like an actual grin.

Audrey reached across and patted Luna on the forearm. “I’ll explain later.”

“Oh, good,” said Luna with a smile. “I usually ask Ginny about those sorts of things, but I don’t know that she won’t be rather busy this evening.”

That caused all of them to laugh—even Bullroarer chuckled.

“Luna,” said Audrey, “I’m sure you’re right. And I’m sure you’re going to point out why you think she’ll be too busy, but honestly, I think her brothers would rather not think about it.”

“Oh,” said Luna, her eyes widening alarmingly. She looked at Percy with that devastating look of utterly innocent bewilderment that had always made him feel absolutely awful. “Truly?”

“It’s all right,” Bill said. “But yeah, we appreciate not having to think about it too much.” And there it was again: the bloody _wink._

Percy looked back out at Harry and Ginny. They looked so at ease, moving around the dance floor. It made his throat tighten.

And yet their path to this night had hardly been easy.

Percy’s father stepped out onto the dance floor and tapped Harry on the shoulder. He and Ginny both looked surprised, but Harry made a gracious show of letting Ginny dance with her father, watching the two of them with a rather misty-looking grin before turning to his new mother-in-law and waltzing her onto the floor. Hermione and Ron followed, and the rout began: cousins and friends began to take to the floor.

“ _Viens,”_ said Bill to his wife _, “danser avec moi!_ ” The two of them floated out into the crowd. One of GInny’s teammates, a Beater if Percy remembered correctly (by no means a sure thing), came over and grabbed Charlie by the hand and with no further preliminary pulled him into the throng. After staring at Angelina for a few moments, George muttered, “Bugger,” and held out his hand to her. She took it as if preparing to arm wrestle, and they too joined the mass.

Bullroarer cleared his throat and nodded at Luna. “Dance?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t think so, no—not unless you really want to. Though I am rather curious to see how your body moves, I don’t particularly enjoy dancing, you see.” If she noticed her companion’s crestfallen expression, she didn’t show it. She smiled broadly up at him. “I would rather find someplace quiet where we could have a lot of sex. Would that be all right, do you think?”

Bullroarer gaped at her for a moment and then spluttered, “Yes. It would.”

“Oh, how nice!” She stood on tip-toe and kissed Bullroarer fleetingly on the lips. “And I won my bet!”

“Bet?”

“That was three words.” Leading him by the hand, she gave him what was, for Luna, a quite cagy look. “I shall have to ponder what I can claim as forfeit. Do you think perhaps that I might get you to say more?”

Bullroarer’s face split into an altogether sunny grin. “Maybe,” he said, and they were gone.

Percy looked at Audrey’s face as she watched them depart. Her expression was a mélange of amusement, pleasure and wistfulness. “Miss Abbott,” he said, “would you do me the honor of joining me in a dance?”

“Why, Mister Weasley,” she answered in a high voice, batting her eyes, “I would be honored. That is,” she said, her voice returning to normal, “if you really want to.”

“As it happens, I love to dance,” said Percy. “And I should love to dance with you.”

“Well, I… I’d love that, too.”

Percy took her hand and pulled her to him, and together they began to step-ball-change.

After their exertions that afternoon, it shouldn’t have caught Percy by surprise that she danced beautifully, that they were able to share the language of touch, step and rhythm effortlessly and fluently. A rush of exhilaration flooded through him, followed by a twinge of fear and regret.

The music changed, and, as they shifted without having to discuss it from a waltz to a foxtrot, he found himself staring down into her sea-green eyes. “Audrey—?” he began, hesitant in speech as he found he wasn’t in movement. “Are you in love with Harry?”

She blinked at him. “In… love? With Harry?”

“I wouldn’t blame you,” he sighed, and found that he had to look away. “Harry is a rather remarkable man. Not without his faults, of course, but—”

“No, Percy.” His eyes snapped back to her. Her expression was deadly serious. “Do I care for him? Sure. Did I wish he didn’t have to leave this summer? Yeah. But I knew that he was taken, Percy. Well, not taken, but that he wasn’t going to be falling in love with anyone any time soon. So, no, Percy. I was never in love with Harry.”

“Oh. Good.” Somehow, it didn’t feel all that good. But Percy would take it.

“Were you in love with Asteria?”

Percy felt a flash of pain and anger, yet he knew that the question was the reasonable response to his own. “I would have told you that I was. And yet, I find myself thinking that I actually didn’t care for her that much. We share interests—”

“I’m hoping that having group tours of your bed isn’t one of them.”

“Definitely not.”

“Well, there you go.”

“Yes. There we go.” Here they were: back to the negotiating table. Yet somehow, the stakes here felt much larger, even, than the millions of Galleons that they had been moving around like so many Every-Flavor Beans. There were any number of possible tactics that he might take now, and any number of possible responses on her end, but the difficulty, Percy found, lay in knowing what it was that he himself wanted. And in trusting that Audrey would keep her end of the bargain toward which she seemed to wish to steer. “Audrey—”

There was a light tap on Percy’s shoulder. “May I?”

Percy turned to find his sister beaming up at him, face bright as a thousand fireworks. Harry—her husband, Harry, Percy’s brother-in-law, Harry—looked down at Ginny and then at Audrey. “Ginny said you promised to save me a dance.”

Audrey gaped at him and at Ginny, and then at Percy.

“Go ahead,” he said, releasing her hand. “We don’t want you going back on your promises, now, do we?”

She flashed him a smile that was more herself. “I suppose not.”

A sober-faced Harry took her hand, and they began to dance.

Ginny gave a grunt as they drifted away. “Merlin. They look like brother and sister.”

Percy started. He’d have never thought of it, but it was true: Harry and Audrey were nearly of a height, both with mops of dark hair and green eyes. “I suppose both families go back in Godric’s Hollow for hundreds of years. They must share common ancestors.”

“I suppose,” Ginny sighed. “Mind, those two have done a few things that you and I certainly haven’t.”

“I should hope not!”

“Come on, Perce,” Ginny said, “dance with your sister on her wedding day.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Their mother had given all of the Weasleys dancing lessons. For many years, Percy had partnered Ron, but when Ginny was large enough to join in, Ron would dance with their mother or with Charlie, and Percy would dance with Ginny. Dancing with her felt as natural as breathing, and the memory of all of those hours spent doing the gracklestomp or the tango flooded through him with the thought that it had all been in preparation for this—for each of them to be ready for just such a night.

Ginny sighed again. “I’d forgotten how good you were at leading. Harry’s learned a lot—thanks so much, Audrey—but even with his hand on my waist, I’m the one letting him know where we’re going.”

“How do you trust him, Ginevra?” The question was out of Percy’s mouth before he had even begun to consider it.

“What… Trust Harry?” She leaned back from him as if to inspect for signs of the Imperius or of a Befuddlement Charm. 

“He disappointed you. Badly. He went away. And then he was sleeping with….” They were smiling at each other now, Audrey and Harry—smiling and talking as they danced. Audrey laughed.

Ginny’s gaze followed Percy’s. “Yeah, well, I was with Scott, so it’s not like I can take any kind of moral high ground. Harry and I had broken it off. Of course we saw other people.” Ginny stopped so that Percy nearly tripped over her robes. “Do you know why he didn’t stay with Audrey, Percy? Why I didn’t stay with Scott?”

Percy shrugged. “Well…”

“It was because Scott wasn’t Harry and Audrey wasn’t me. Harry’s told me she was smart, sexy, funny—which I can totally see. But for some reason he preferred short, freckled and annoying. Lucky me.”

Percy felt a tremor of a smile flutter up. “Lucky him.” _Lucky me…._

“Percy, I know Asteria hurt you—I so wanted to kick her arse when she had the nerve to show up tonight. And I know it’s never gone the way you wanted with Luna and Penny and the rest. But don’t let Hysteria deny you a shot at happiness.”

“A shot?” Harry and Audrey were making their way back over to Percy and Ginny.

“I see the way the two of you look at each other. The way you fit together. Harry says she’s great, and from what I’ve seen, he’s right. If you like her—”

“I do.”

“—then don’t let her go.”

“But…” Audrey was laughing again, but her eyes were locked on Percy’s. “She has to go back to America.”

“Bollocks.” Ginny leaned up and kissed Percy on the cheek. “Harry and I found each other in the middle of the bloody Caribbean. Romantic as hell, that, but out of the way. Don’t let her go.”

Percy looked down at Ginny. She had her fierce look on—the one that Percy recognized not only from her match photos, but from years of watching her stand up for herself. “All right,” he conceded. And then he returned her kiss, right on her forehead.

“Are you sure she’s his sister?” Audrey asked.

“Oh, look at the hair, it’s a dead giveaway. Believe me,” Harry chuckled, “I’m not letting just any bloke kiss my wife.”

Ginny launched herself at Harry, a flying mass of white silk.

Harry nearly toppled, but he managed to hold himself—and her—upright. “What was that for?”

“I’m your wife!”

“Uh, yeah.”

“And you’re my husband!”

“Those tend to go together.”

And Ginny pulled Harry back into a dance, laughing and crying as they twirled their way across the floor.

“Hi,” Audrey said.

“Hi.” Taking her hand, he led her back towards their table. “May I ask what was so funny?”

Audrey smirked. It was a thoroughly adorable smirk. “Harry was offering to beat you up.”

“Beat me… up?”

“He said he’d hex you nine ways to Sunday if you didn’t act, and I quote, ‘like a gentleman.’ I told him you didn’t know how to act any other way, and that, besides, he was a bit late to protect my honor.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Percy, I’ve never been with a man who took such good care of my honor, I promise.”

He meant to answer her in words, but the response that formed itself involved a quite passionate kiss and an embrace.

“Whoa,” gasped Audrey when they broke. “If any of your family were looking this way, I think you may have just sullied my honor just the tiniest bit in their eyes. Not that I’m complaining.”

“Audrey—” There was too much—too much to say, too much to do. And she was going back to New York. “Can we go somewhere a bit more private?”

She nodded but her eyes and mouth were wide. “Uh. Sure. Want to sully my honor some more?”

“Actually, yes. Quite a lot.” He kissed her again. “I’ll make our excuses. And there’s someone I need to speak with just for a moment.”

“O… kay.” He watched her bite back the obvious question. Showing him trust. “I’ll visit the ladies’. Meet you at the back door in five minutes?”

“Perfect.”

She grinned. “Can’t wait.”

_October 25, 2003 - 8.17PM_

When they made their way giddily back into the Calico Cat, Sally Fawcett was even more deeply buried in her magazine and her skin was an even deeper shade of red than before. It didn’t take long for them to discover why.

“Oh, Merlin, Merlin, Luna! You are so perfect, like satin, Merlin, so good, again! Complete me, Luna, you complete… Like that! Oh! You, all I want, all I need, complete… MERLIN!” And the deep, resonant tones gave way to a long, sustained grunt that came out almost as a kind of whirring trumpet call, building and building to a bellow…

Standing on the stairs leading up to their room, Audrey bit back laughter and then mouthed _Bullroarer._

Silence fell.

Audrey winked at Percy—this wink Percy understood _perfectly_ —and began to back up the stairs, unbuttoning her robes as she went, when another cry broke the silence: a wispy, high moan that Percy knew very well; when he had last heard it, however, some three years before, it had been calling out _his_ name. Now, however, passion inspired Luna to scream, “ _ROLF!_ ”

At the expression on Percy’s face, Audrey stopped her striptease. She peered at him. “Nostalgic?”

Percy shook his head and looked down at the landing below. “I’m… very pleased for her,” he whispered. “What he just told her… It’s all she’s ever wanted. To make someone… complete. Happy.”

When Percy turned back up to look at Audrey, she was standing just where she had been. Her clothing, however, had vanished. She was wearing, as they said, nothing but a smile. “Well, Percy, I know for a fact that you can make _this_ someone very, very happy indeed.”

_October 25, 2003 - 11.24PM_

They lay tangled on the rug in front of the fire; October had finally begun to exert itself and the night had cooled. Audrey and Percy had found several ways, however, of keeping warm.

“Audrey?”

“Mmm.”

“May I ask… Well, several somethings.”

“Oh. Please. Anything. I’m jello in your hands.”

Whatever _jello_ was, it wasn’t likely to be anywhere nearly as pleasant as what was, in fact, in his hands. Nonetheless, he took her cue.

She moaned deeply and then laughed. “Not complaining, Percy, you really can keep doing that all night, but, I just meant… ugh… meant that you can ask whatever you want.”

“I see.” He maintained his activities for some minutes until she reached what seemed to be a good breathing point.

“Wow.”

“I’m glad that you enjoyed that.”

“Huh. Me too.” She kissed him; his mouth was actually beginning to feel raw, but he really, really didn’t mind. She could kiss him bloody for all that he cared.

“Question?” she asked, her lips still on his.

“Oh.” He backed up; for a moment, he debated finding his glasses, but then decided that he might be happier if he couldn’t see her face when she answered. “Um. Ginny. And Luna. And, I think, perhaps, Harry too. They all… implied that you had taught Harry… _something_. Something other than how to dance.”

“ _Oh._ ” Now Percy was sorry that he couldn’t see her: couldn’t see whether that tone meant mortification or amusement or both. “Percy…”

“I think I’d rather know, because unfortunately, now that I’ve started thinking about it, it will be terribly difficult to get out of my mind. I assume that it is something of a sexual nature?”

Her voice now sounded very small. “Um. I’m assuming so too.”

“Yes. And… perhaps this says more about me than about you, but after today, I can’t honestly say that there are very many major categories of sexual activity that we haven’t, er, explored.”

She gave a low grunt. “Percy…” She let out a breath. “Don’t get…”

“Just tell me.”

Again her voice was small—barely audible. “Anal sex. I think. I mean… I think that’s got to be it.”

He lay there, letting that concept bounce around in his mind a bit. He knew that such a thing _existed_ of course. Asteria had taken the trouble to inform him that she was _not_ interested, which, of course, had been fine with Percy. He was too much of a… what was the word Audrey had used?

“I suggested that to Harry… D’you know why, Percy?” She stroked his cheek.

“Because he isn’t a… patch…”

She gave a snort. “A patchutchnik. A picky person. Well, that’s what I told Luna, and it’s why we were laughing like crazywomen. But that’s not why I asked Harry to do… that with me. And it isn’t why I hadn’t asked you. Or not all.”

He was trying in that moment not to get distracted by imagining doing… _that_ with Audrey. It was very, very hard. “Oh?”

“It’s because Harry… There’s this shell around him. Even when we were getting very close, I always felt as if he were holding some part of him in reserve. I mean, everyone needs privacy, but this felt more like he was trying to stifle something.”

“His feelings for Ginny, I should imagine.”

“Yeah.” She sighed and ran a finger along his cheek. “This is a very weird conversation. Anyway, one night, we went dancing, had a great meal, had great sex… and there was still this _thing_ that he was holding back. So I, uh, offered to let him, you know.”

“I see.”

“Maybe. Percy—I guess it didn’t occur to me as something you’d enjoy. But mostly? Talking to people, you’re very reserved, very British. But when we were negotiating? Not at all. You don’t hold yourself back at all. At the bargaining table or in bed, either, thank god. It’s like the way that you dance; I don’t have to think about who’s leading and who’s following at all. It’s really, really nice.”

A flush of pleasure washed over him, though he wasn’t sure why. “Thank you.”

“You are very, very welcome.” She kissed him.

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Enjoy…?”

“The…. erm… The anal sex.”

“Oh. Actually…” She pulled him close, placing his hand on her quite remarkable bum. “Yeah. I do. It’s… There are some charms to take care of the more uncomfortable parts—I think that’s the bit that Harry taught your sister—”

Percy wanted very much _not_ to be thinking about Harry teaching Ginny those sorts of charms.

“—and it’s really… intimate. And nasty. Nasty can be fun.” She bit his lip. “Sound interesting, patchutchnik?”

He gave a noncommittal grunt in response and kissed her, then began to sit up.

“Percy?” She sounded worried. “Too weird?”

“No. Actually it sounds… Well. Nasty. In a… fun way.” He started to search for his glasses. “But I need to use the toilet.”

“Ah.” She placed his glasses in his hands. He slid them on and was graced with the miracle of her naked, sweaty form. After he had stood there for a moment, gazing, she poked his shin with her big toe. “You know, if you have to go to the bathroom, standing there ogling me isn’t going to help.”

“No,” Percy was forced to admit as he stood. “But it is certainly very pleasant.”

As he closed the door behind him—which felt rather silly—she called out, “Flatterer! Not that I mind!”

As he stood, using the facilities, he tried to gather his thoughts. He had tried to broach the topic several times over the past few hours, but somehow, his ability to stay on-topic—one of his strengths—had abandoned him.

He reviewed his points and her likely counter-arguments. Then as he washed, the mirror over the sink chuckled and said, “Someone looks like he’s having a good time!”

Surprised, Percy glanced up and caught sight of himself. Narrow-chested and befreckled as always, he was nevertheless ruddy with exertion. His hair was an absolute mess, but most remarkably, on his face was an enormous Weasley grin. Giving himself a wink, he decided to forget about arguments and counterarguments. “Anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve,” he told his reflection. Then he dried his hands, ran his fingers through his hair and stepped back into the hotel room.

He was greeted there by the most heart-stopping vision of his twenty-seven years: Audrey, naked—gloriously, utterly, unreservedly naked—her bum high in the air, her cheek on the rug, gazing back at him over her shoulder down the length of that extraordinary back with _such_ a look…

“Anything you want, Percy,” she said, her voice low. “I trust you. Absolutely.”

He fell to his knees. Leaning forward, he kissed the base of her spine and tears began to spill onto the insides of his glasses. “I want…” he sobbed, kissing his way up her back, up her neck. “I want _everything_ , _everything_ —so long as it’s with you. Audrey, I want to spend weeks and weeks finding out all of your favorite and least favorite things. I want to find out if you can stand to live with me for more than a month without wanting to dump things on the floor just because it’s too bloody neat—”

“I wouldn’t,” she said, and he thought at first that she was laughing, but she wasn’t—she too was crying. “Percy. Don’t. Don’t do this to both of us. I really, really, really like you, Percy, but I can’t move to England, I told you—it would kill my dad.” She pulled his arms tight around her and they spooned there, bottoms up, neither caring at all. “And… I’ve tried long-distance relationships. They can work for a little while, but… Please, Percy. I think if you keep saying those wonderful, lovely things, the minute I’m back in New York, thinking of you here, I’ll just… I couldn’t stand it, Percy. I’m so sorry.”

“Well, then,” he whispered into her ear, “it’s a good thing that I’m moving to New York on Monday.”

She flipped over beneath him, and the astonished look on her face made him feel even better than the feeling of her flesh moving against his. “You’re _WHAT?_ ”

“Moving to New York. The Ministry’s mission there has been without a chargé d’affaires since Ermentrude Fitzgibbons retired last year. While you were in the loo, before we left The Burrow, I happened to run into to the Minister—” which was true, if you defined _happened to run into_ as _dragged off the dance floor with absolutely no regard for his person “—_ and happened to suggest my name for the vacant post. He considered it an excellent idea. He suggested that it would give us a ‘chance to extend our excellent working rapport.’”

She gawked at him. “You… you did that? For _me_?”

“For me, Audrey. It was entirely a selfish act.” He kissed her; before she could kiss him back, however, he murmured into her lush lips, “You offered me anything I want, Audrey. Well, I want you. More than I have ever wanted or needed anything in my whole patchutchnik life. May I have you?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, smiling and weeping, and they gave themselves, each to the other, there on the rug of the Calico Cat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! If you haven't already, do go and check out Intermezzo. I highly recommend it.
> 
> By the way, patchutchnik is indeed a word that my family actually uses--though, like Audrey, I've never heard anyone else use it. Heh..


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